Black, White, and Grey

A friend came up to me yesterday at a school gathering and asked if we could go for a walk, have coffee, something, and talk about some of the themes of my blog: motherhood, being over 40 (and damn near 50), mid-life, marriage, etc. Never had anyone tell me what they consider to be the themes of my blog before, and it was enlightening.

I've had people call my blog an autism blog, which in some ways it is, and in some ways it isn't, which all makes perfect sense to me at this stage of life. As I'm aggressively greying (and coloring) physically, I'm aggressively greying in all my thoughts and beliefs, too. Everything is a shade of grey with little or nothing being pure black or pure white.

When I started this blog almost five years ago, that was my first post, Shades of Grey. And although it's really true that the more I know the less I know. I know more, too. I know that love is all there is.

There are times I don't have a blog post to write because all I'm thinking is stuff I've already shared and shared and shared. Feels at times there isn't a single stone left to turn. Life with Rojo is repetitive and cyclical, too. Every year at Christmas time he sings, "Deck the Halls with Boughs of Jolly," and you already know that. Every year at Easter he asks the Easter Bunny, Devohn, to come to our house and hide eggs, and you already know that. Every year on his birthday we force him to reach some new milestone, and you already know that. You also know that I've been working and worrying and trusting and praying, begging and pleading and in all ways obsessed with where he will go to high school next year.

As I've been working on my "new" manuscript these last few months, I've pulled in lots of blog posts and even parts of my first manuscript. A friend and fellow writer told me that's what I would do, "You'll cannibalize what you've already written. Stuff that you didn't know what to do with before, or that didn't work then, will find it's way into your new work. There is no new. There is only old with a different perspective - time."

While reading through a bunch of stuff I've written the last several years, both here and "off line," I see just how much I've changed. Just how much Rojo has changed. Just how much my marriage has changed.

And it's really true what they say: the more things change, the more they stay the same.

* Photo from www.davefleet.com

Full of Grace

Big week for me, today is the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, which, to my way of thinking, basically means Mary is full of grace.

Sunday is Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe.

Call her what you want: Mary, Tara, Spirit, Shiva, Kuan Yin, Mother, Goddess, the Feminine Divine.

Just call on her.

Earnings

Just got my Social Security statement telling me what my estimated benefits are. I know it's gauche to discuss money, but allow me this: Since 1980 (I was a junior in high school) to the present, I have earned a whopping $242,118. Total. 30 years. Averages out to be 8,070.60/year.

Jealous?

Lots of school and lots of hard work and lots of different jobs I've tried my hand at, and that is what I have to show for it. In terms of money.

To those of you that have balanced work, family, kids, social lives, I bow to you. To those of you raising special needs kids AND working, and being a contributing member to your communities, I double bow to you. And to those of you that are single and raising special needs kids and working, and contributing to your community, and raising typical children, too, and caring for homes and yards and cars and extended families. I triple bow to you one thousand times over.

At first when I saw my statement with so many zeros after the years, I was a little depressed. Then I pulled my head out of my #^% and realized those were the years in which I most richly blessed.

* Photo from www.financecents.com

Sugar and Spice

Check it out, my friend Leslie's new blog. Basically, she is the antithesis of me. She can cook. She can decorate. She can entertain. She can garden. AND SHE ENJOYS THESE THINGS!

Here she is, click here.

Advent Consipiracy

And

Shocking, I know, but I have somewhat of a Mary shrine going on in my closet-turned-prayer room. Each morning while STM is slaving away making umpteen pieces of bacon for a very hyper fourteen-year-old, I am "busy" praying in my closet with the perfect cup of coffee. It's a rough life.

Today Rojo burst through the door to the closet, with Flicka, blew out all the candles, sang three rounds of "Deck the halls with boughs of jolly," literally jumped up and down for five minutes, then stole a glance at the Mary statue I have on my altar and asked, "Is that the virgin and Mary?"

The virgin AND Mary.

I quickly said yes just to get him on his way, but then as I resumed heaven within the sanctuary of the closet, and he resumed being STM's early morning problem, I reflected on that.

We are all so many things, it's hard to classify us, isn't it? And so often what we are is conflicting. Just this week someone said to me, "Being a liberal like you are..." and someone else said, "She's a conservative, like you." Two people that know me well, with very different views of my views. I have very different views of my views, too. Lots of "ands." I am this AND I am that.

Holding all the various parts of ourselves, giving each a turn without letting any one aspect take over, is a challenge.

AND, we can do it.

College

The Paradoxical Commandments, by Dr. Kent M. Keith

People are illogical, unreasonable, and self-centered.

Love them anyway.

If you do good, people will accuse you of selfish ulterior motives.

Do good anyway.

If you are successful, you will win false friends and true enemies.

Succeed anyway.

The good you do today will be forgotten tomorrow.

Do good anyway.

Honesty and frankness make you vulnerable.

Be honest and frank anyway.

The biggest men and women with the biggest ideas can be shot down by the smallest men and women with the smallest minds.

Think big anyway.

People favor underdogs but follow only top dogs.

Fight for a few underdogs anyway.

What you spend years building may be destroyed overnight.

Build anyway.

People really need help but may attack you if you do help them.

Help people anyway.

Give the world the best you have and you'll get kicked in the teeth.

Give the world the best you have anyway.

Party On

STM and I were in the living room putting together our new IKEA love seat. You gotta love a store that sells love seats in a box and whose instructions have zero words. We spent much of the long weekend re-arranging and building furniture, and getting decorated for Christmas. Our dining room is now a cute family room off the kitchen. We had it this way years ago and then got conventional and made it back into a dining room. Thing is, we don't dine.

Now the room you walk into when you enter the house is the dining room. Weird, you say? Yes. We are weird. For years I've fought the floor plan of this house and the non-conformity of my husband. Now, slowly, I'm learning to surrender. I'm lucky to have a house with so much flexibility, I tell myself. And it's true. It's the If You Give a Mouse a Cookie syndrome, as my friend, Susan would say. You know the children's book where the mouse asks for a cookie, then needs a glass of milk, and, and, and and pretty soon nothing is as it once was just because the mouse wanted a little cookie. Same thing. Moved the denim furniture into the new "family room," moved the dining room table into the old entry space, needed something for the spot in the living room from whence we stole the denim stuff. You get it.

Anyway.

Woohoo was out with friends and STM and I were spending a thrilling Saturday night putting together our new IKEA stuff and watching the Beavers get beat by Stanford. Rojo was pulling up college fight songs on YouTube and making really loud, annoying and repetitive guttural sounds in time with the bands, something he'd pretty much been doing for four days straight, but who's counting?

Phone rang. STM's mom. Her elderly and in very poor health sister had just passed away. We knew at Thanksgiving that she had gone into a Hospice and it was only a matter of days. Still. A huge loss for my MIL, as they were very close. They spoke every single Saturday morning on the phone, even though over 2,000 miles had separated them for years. Just that morning, in fact, my MIL had called and one of her niece's had put the phone up to her failing mother's ears and let my MIL talk to her. Makes me cry just thinking about it.

STM got off the phone and told Rojo and me, "Well, she died."

"I don't feel sorry for her," I said, "she's got to be in such a much better place, but I feel sorry for your mom and all the other people that loved her."

"Are you going to die?" Rojo asked me.

"Someday," I said, "when I'm very old."

"What about me, am I going to die?" he asked.

"Yes, when you are very old."

"But don't die without me, okay?" he said. "Let's die at the same time."

I instantly thought of a disturbing conversation I'd had with a woman that is the mother to a grown son with extreme disabilities. When she grows too old to take care of him, she plans to put them both in her cry and drive into the river. She can't bear the thought of him alone in the world without her.

I get it.

"So, do you promise you won't die without me?" Rojo persisted.

Obviously not being something I could promise, I tried diversion. "What about Daddy?"

"Daddy, too," he said, "and Flicka. We'll all die together. It'll be a PARTY!" he said, hands clapping, one leg kicking out in celebration, a huge smile across his dimpled cheeks.

* Photo from www.rosesuk.com

May all beings have happiness, and the causes of happiness;

May all be free from sorrow, and the causes of sorrow;

May all never be separated from the sacred happiness 

which is sorrowless;

And may all live in equanimity, without too 

much attachment and too much aversion,

And live believing in the equality of all that lives.

- Buddhist prayer

Grateful

Been thinking a lot about gratefulness as I prepare for the Thanksgiving weekend. So much to be grateful for: health, family, home, the tremendous blessing in being able to be an at home parent - all things I take for granted way too much, and even at times gripe about.

The one tremendous blessing I have, however, and do not take for granted or forget about for one single minute, is the gift of my friends. I've gotta say, I have the best friends in the whole world. I have friends that walk beside me every day, both literally and figuratively. I have friends that go to Costco and buy Rojo's favorite snacks and my favorite beer (Mirror Pond) to have on hand for when we invite ourselves over for Beer O'Clock pretty much every day. I have friends that have volunteered to work with Rojo in his class, and continue to do so year after year after year after year. I have friends that call and remind me who I am, what's important to me, where I'm headed and show me how to get there. I have friends who place the perfect dog into my life at the perfect time. I have friends that have my back, my front, my sides, and all around me. I have friends that send e-mails that make me laugh. I have friends that used to be Rojo's teachers, and are now part of the family. I have old friends, new friends, forever friends and friends that I've lost touch with, but think of fondly. I have blog friends, special need mom (and dad!) friends, and people I don't know all that well but consider firmly in my corner.

In the last two weeks the outpouring of support for Rojo and for me has been completely overwhelming, in the best possible sense of the word. Nothing is wrong with Rojo, he's his usual happy/hyper self. There has just been a lot of stress around what comes next for him in terms of school, and that's where the army of support has stepped in.

Read a quote the other day that said, "You'd give anything to have what you have." Sorry, can't remember who said it, but wish I'd thought of it.

It's true.

I'd give anything to have what I have, and for what I have, I am deeply grateful.

Amen.

I am at Hopeful Parents. Please join me! Thanks!

Fear Not,

What is not real, never was and never will be.

What is real, always was and cannot be destroyed.

- Bhagavad Gita

* Photo from http://oldbuddysam.blogspot.com

Darkness

Ever since we moved the clocks back, I am so aware of how many waking hours of the day are dark. It's dark when I get up. It's dark before dinner. It's dark even when it's light some days, lights are necessary during the day, headlights on the car, candles, anything to bring light to the darkness.

We are going through a time around here where there are more questions than answers, where there is a nothing-more-we-can-do feeling conflicting with a strong there-must-be-more-that-we-can-do sense. In essence, we are in a period of waiting and darkness. The path is not illuminated, yet we know it is there.

This morning I was in my converted closet/prayer room and Flicka pushed through the door and joined me.  Rojo was right behind her. It was early in the morning and I had several candles going in there. Rojo, super hyper and wound up, quickly blew out all the candles, jumped around, made a mess, then left, leaving Flicka behind. Flicka curled up in a ball close to me, but I couldn't see her at all in the pitch dark. Not even her eyes shone. Still, I knew she was there, I could sense her, even though no part of her was actually touching any part of me. There was simply a there-ness to her.

Before STM and Woohoo left for school and work, we sat down for our family prayer time. Again we were in the dark except for candles, and a little growing daylight coming through the windows. Rojo pulled his angel card-of-the-day and for the third day in a row, he pulled Expectancy.

As I struggle to believe in what I cannot see but can only feel, he does not struggle whatsoever. He has a positive expectancy. He does not need to rely on faith because there is no question in his mind that things will work out any way but good. Scratch that, he believes they will work exactly the way they are intended to, according to some divine plan that is none of his business and not his problem.

In the dark he is not in darkness. He's expectant.

Lord,
Open our eyes to see beauty,
Open our ears to hear truth,
Open our minds to seek wisdom,
Open our mouths to speak kindness,
And open our hearts to love.

Amen.

Intellectualism

You can't turn on the TV,  read the paper, or eavesdrop on a conversation for more than five minutes, without hearing the word "moron," "idiot," "stupid," "dumb," or the big offender, the R-word. Our culture allows this, one might even say, encourages it.

If you are a racist, sexist or ageist we call you on it, but disparage those with "less than normal intelligence?" Bring it! Laugh it up! Make yourself feel better while being in good company!

Did any of you happen to see "Parenthood" last Tuesday night (or any night you and your DVR called it up)? Adam, the father with a son with Asperger's, punched a guy in the nose at the grocery store, for calling his son a, oh, I can't even say it, the R-word. And the man so totally deserved it. I so appreciate what this show is trying to do to raise awareness of special needs. Although my son is "on the spectrum" and the kid on the show is "on the spectrum," too, that is pretty much all they have in common. Yet I so relate to the story line, and their family could by ours in so many ways, complete with the 16-year-old junior in high school daughter, that gets the short end of the stick every single day, pretty much. They've got the mom that is fully consumed with meeting the needs of her son, and the dad just out there trying to make a living while constantly being pulled away by yes, the all-consuming needs of the special child.

I was recently reading Mennonite in a Little Black Dress per several people's recommendation. I was liking it, even smiling on occasion, until she repeatedly used the R-word disparagingly. For. A. Laugh.

It's not funny.

Sticks and stones may break bones but it's the words that we use with each other that wound the deepest.

May we live our lives beyond separation, knowing that nations and cultures are made up of individuals. May I be as one who rethinks my life, my actions, and aligns to the glory we are all capable of. May I follow where I am spiritually guided, and embrace what is new that is of love. May love flow through me and lend my individual life and light toward a better world.

- Jacqueline T. Snyder

The secret of life is to have a task, something you devote your entire life to, something you bring everything to, every minute of the day for your whole life. And the most important thing is - it must be something you cannot possibly do.

Henry Moore, 1898-1986

English Artist and Sculptor

Be Calm and Carry On

Would you please send forth a special prayer for Rojo tomorrow? Thank you!

She Who Hears the Cries of the World

This is Quan Yin (or Kuan Yin), the Buddhist goddess of compassion. Her Christian counterpart is Mary. The name Quan Yin means She Who Hears the Cries of the World.

Hears.

NEHBM of being heard. Sometimes I think that's half the reason I write - to be heard. I'm sure one of my life lessons is to come to terms with this, as it was and is still the case that I live with those that have tremendous difficulty listening/hearing/processing/paying attention. Discerning what it is I need and want to say, and how much of that really needs to be "heard" by anyone other than me, is something I'm still very much in the process of.

If you are looking for music that reassures you that there is a higher power out there that is hearing you, I recommend this CD, She Carries Me. It's meditative. It's soothing. It's healing. It's lulling. It's reassuring.

Light the Marys. Invoke Quan Yin. Put the music on repeat and let it wash over you. You are heard. You are heard. You are heard. Amen.

Little Taste of Heaven

There are few things I love more on this planet than a Starbucks eggnog latte. Go ahead, say what you want about Starbucks. Say what you want about non-organic. Say what you want about fat, sugar and calories. Yap it up. Nothing will come between me and my 2-month-a-year addiction.

They started serving them on November 1st, just so you know. Don't let the lack of "WE HAVE EGGNOG!" signs slow you down one tiny bit.